Yes, March was one of the cruelest months for us in U.S.

The disappointment and the bitterness when President Park's impeachment was cofirmed 

with all the uncertainties and doubts of the future of our homeland still remain in my heart.

To make the things worse, there were nothing we could do for our home.

April is here again in California.

The foothills and the green strips along the highways are covered with wild flowers.

That says one thing... for the snowbirds like us, it's time to return to our regular homes for the summer.

Anyway, for a snowbird, he has a nice place to go back for the summer

but for a Korean immigrant like me, there seems to be no motherland to return.

One thing the chaos in South Korea told us was that it would never be our place to return.

We have lost a lot of love and confidence on our homeland and it's people.

Unless they do something to bring the democratic society back,

they will remain to be "stupid and primitive people" to me.

Let them find happiness under communist regime. Good luck !

enjoyed very much your well written, realistic painting-like piece of a fine work.

thank you for the simple joy your presentation provides as always.

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An April Day/Henry Wadworth Longfellow

When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
The first flower of the plain.

I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming-on of storms.

From the earth's loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold,
The drooping tree revives.

The softly-warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along
The forest openings.

When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light, the green slope throws
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills,
And wide the upland glows.

And when the eve is born,
In the blue lake the sky, o'er-reaching far,
Is hollowed out and the moon dips her horn,
And twinkles many a star.

Inverted in the tide
Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw,
And the fair trees look over, side by side,
And see themselves below.

Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.